


Waiting for Tomorrow

by MaiKusakabe



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, Post-Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Snippets, a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-23 06:46:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13184577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaiKusakabe/pseuds/MaiKusakabe
Summary: Roy and Ed. Through the years.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am with the first part of my story for the RoyEd Gift Exchange! :D
> 
> Written for jacktsuki on tumblr :)
> 
> Originally, this was going to be a one-shot, but it started growing and growing until I realized there was no way I could write the entire thing by the deadline, not even with an extension. So I took some parts of the story, all of them following a certain theme, and turned them into a series of short one-shots of around 600 words each. There are five in total, and I intend to post one each day, from December 28th to January 1st.
> 
> The story starts two years after the Promised Day, when Ed is set to leave for his trip. The only difference from canon up to this point is that Ed and Winry are best friends, so there’s been no marriage proposal or romance.

It has been a little over three years since Ed last set foot on Eastern Headquarters. The building looks the same, and there are many familiar faces around. Ed greets and nods at those he knows as he walks through the hallways, until he finally reaches his destination.

Hawkeye is the only one in the outer office, and Ed owes her for kicking everyone else out like he asked. She smiles at him and Ed grins back.

He marches over to the opposite end of the office and pushes the door open. It’s not the same office he used to barge into, and a flesh arm doesn’t pack the same strength as his old automail one did, but the act is reminiscent of old times all the same.

Brigadier General Roy Mustang looks up, an impressive indifferent expression on his face until he catches sight of Ed. He raises an eyebrow.

“I was wondering when you’d drop by,” Mustang says, and he leans back on his chair. “Alphonse had the courtesy to knock.”

“Al inherited all the manners,” Ed replies flippantly. He walks in and closes the door far more gently than how he opened it.

“I won’t argue that point. So? Where are you going?”

“The West. No exact destination in mind yet.” Ed shrugs and reminds himself that he’s fought homunculi and demented alchemists. This is nothing in comparison. “I wanted to tell you something before I see your team.”

Mustang gestures for him to sit. Ed doesn’t, because he needs to pace.

“When I was like thirteen, I got a giant crush on you.” He starts pacing. Best not to look at Mustang. “I was angry and ignored it because you were an asshole, but then that whole mess with the homunculi happened and I saw you actually were a decent person. And smarter than you acted. And, well… The crush kinda grew. But Al came first, you know, and…”

He’s wearing a hole on the carpet, he knows it. Taking a breath, Ed stops and finally turns to look at Mustang, who hasn’t interrupted even once and has an odd expression on his face.

_Get to the point, Elric._

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I really like you and want to try a relationship with you, and before you speak know I have a counterargument for any bullshit you come up with. You don’t wanna date me? That’s fine, but only if you don’t _want_ to. No other reason.”

There is silence after Ed’s rambling tirade. Mustang is looking at him with one of those intense gazes he gets some times, but Ed has too much practice to even squirm. He refuses to feel awkward now.

“You have thought about this,” Mustang finally speaks. It’s not an outright rejection. Good. “I have to say I never thought of you in such a way before, not back then. However, you _are_ a fascinating man, and I’m not blind.”

Mustang stands up and moves around his desk, closer to Ed.

“Is that a yes?” Ed blurts out, his attempt at appearing calm all but defunct.

Mustang’s lips twitch.

“It is.”

Ed sags in relief and his face splits into a wide grin. He’s reluctant to admit it, but he’s been terrified of this moment for weeks, and the main reason he’s left it for the end was so he could flee to the West if things didn’t go well. He’s still going, of course, but there will be no fleeing involved.

“Great.”

He takes a step forward, then another, and leans up to brush his lips against Mustang’s — _Roy’s_ — own. Ed has never kissed anyone before, but he’s fantasized about this often enough.

Roy doesn’t hesitate to respond.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day late, but part two of the story for jacktsuki in the RoyEd Gift Exchange is here :D Holidays and babysitting an overly energetic seven year old really don’t sit well with me. On the bright side, this story has now six parts, so I’ll post two tomorrow and two on January 1st. I don’t have any big plans, so it should be fine.
> 
> Here we have bits and pieces of letters exchanged between Ed and Roy during Ed’s trips.

January 21st, 1918

_Hey, Roy,_

_I’ve made it across the border, and it was a pain in the ass. Provisional treaty or not, Creta’s government is as annoying as ours. Good thing I don’t actually have a record or they wouldn’t have let me into the country (and stop smirking, you’re the one who covered my ass)._

_Anyway, I’m not good at this writing letters thing, but now Al’s at Xing, Winry threatened to wreck my leg on purpose if I didn’t write and, well, we got this thing going on._

_Damn, I suck at this._

_Anyway, I just got out of the train station, so I can’t tell you much. Train food sucks as much here as it does in Amestris, I’m pretty sure they’ve swindled me at the hotel (I still haven’t figured out the local currency) and I’m gonna play tourist tomorrow._

_That’s about it for now._

_Take care, behave, and don’t give Hawkeye a reason to shoot you,_

_Ed_

_P.S.: Send your answer to this same address. I’m gonna hang around this town for a couple months at least. I met an Amestrian who’s gonna teach me the local language._

 

* * *

 

 

February 15th, 1918

_Hello, Edward,_

_I must say I was surprised to receive a letter from you so quickly after you left. When you said you would write, I expected a letter every six months or so._

_I won’t lie, I did smirk. If you hadn’t been a State Alchemist, many of the actions that gave me headaches and tons of paperwork would have built up into an impressive record. I believe Havoc kept tally of how many fines you should’ve paid and how much time in prison you would’ve served. I could ask him if you’re interested._

[…]

 

* * *

 

 

March 1st, 1918

[…]

_You’re an ass, Roy. And tell Havoc I still have an automail leg to kick his ass._

_Speaking of automail, it turns out it’s as uncommon here as it is at Xing. I figured it out when a guy tried to pick a fight with me at a bar. You should’ve seen his face, it was worth taking a picture. The cops were baffled, too, but everybody said I’d only defended myself, so I didn’t get into any trouble. Just a warning to stay out of trouble, as if I could do that._

_I heard from Al. He’s going back to Amestris for a couple weeks. If you see him, tease him about Mei for me. You remember her, don’t you? The Xingese girl who helped us beat Father. She had a massive crush on Al. Do your worst._

_By the way, I’m moving out of here next week, so don’t write back. I’ll call you for now._

[…]

 

* * *

 

 

June 12th, 1918

_Hi, Roy,_

_I decided to settle down at a beach town for now. I’ve met a local alchemist, and we’ve been exchanging tips. There’s a notebook in the box I sent with this letter, I’ve written in it some interesting stuff I’ve learned so far. I thought you’d like to have a look, if you can decode my notes. Take it as a challenge to get your mind working and away from the evil dull paperwork._

_There is a box of local sweets too. They’re pretty damn good, baking is like an unofficial sport here or something. I went to a fair that […]_

 

* * *

 

 

September 28th, 1918

_Fucking shit, the heat has finally left! I’m never again complaining about summer in Resembool. And you can cut the comments about the nice summer you’re having at East, Roy. I’ve been there, I know it can suck._

_Thanks for the pictures of Elicia’s birthday. How can that kid grow cuter every year? You’ll have your hands full once she hits puberty, Uncle Roy. Can I be there when you start scaring the crap out of potential boyfriends or girlfriends? ~~Hugh~~_

_Shit, sorry. How are you doing? I know that day’s tough on you._

[…]

 

* * *

 

 

October 12th, 1918

_I’m fine, Edward, thank you for asking. I’ve had years to come to terms with Maes’ death, and I would never allow my own emotions to ruin Elicia’s birthday._

_When did we forego the greetings? I was expecting we’d fall to cheesy nicknames at some point, though I guess that wouldn’t be in character for you. Me, however? I’ve made an art out of cheesy nicknames, but I have the feeling that I’ll become far too closely acquainted with your automail leg if I used them with you._

[…]

 

* * *

 

 

December 3rd, 1918

[…]

_So, anyway, they’re obsessed with fireworks here at Creta, so I think I’m gonna have fun this New Year’s Eve. I want pictures of your party, and don’t be stingy. I know you’re a lightweight, and I want to see the shit you get up to. Hand them over yourself or I’ll enlist your team._

[…]

 

* * *

 

 

March 20th, 1919

_Roy, about that phone call from yesterday… Please, tell me nobody knows about it._

_I was drunk, okay? It was a national holiday, and I got dragged into it this year. We were talking about relationships, someone brought a phone and… I’m moving. Today. I refuse to stay in this tows, people are giggling when they see me._

_P.S.: I don’t regret what I said._

 

* * *

 

 

July 14th, 1919

_Stop laughing at me, Edward. This isn’t poetic justice; we’re positively melting over here and your pictures from the beach don’t help anyone._

_(I’m keeping them, by the way.)_

_I’ve been tinkering with that sand-manipulating array […]_

 

* * *

 

 

October 3rd, 1919

[…]

_How are negotiations with Drachma going? I know I said I’d be gone for two or three years, but I think I’ve already gone through most of the non-classified alchemical resources that Creta has to offer. After learning of Xingese alkahestry I was expecting to find more interesting stuff abroad, but it turns out Creta is pretty behind Amestris in most alchemical fields. I haven’t found anything interesting in months._

_I could go farther, I know Al has been roaming all over Xing with Mei, but I miss Amestris._

_You owe me like a thousand meals, by the way. No flowers or freaking candlelit places, but I accept chocolate and fancy foods. (By the way, I’ve been learning Cretan cuisine. Just a thought.)_

_Ed_


	3. Chapter 3

East City’s train station is always a mess of travelers rushing to catch their trains and people waiting for trains to arrive, be it because they need to board them or they are there to pick someone up.

Roy is part of this latest group.

Edward will be here in a matter of minutes if there are no delays. He will only stay at East for a few days before heading down to Resembool to visit the Rockbells, but he will be back right on time to head to Central City with Rou and his team. It’s a fortunate coincidence that Roy was given his promotion shortly before Edward stated his wish to return to Amestris. Roy has put off the transfer for weeks under the premise+ of ensuring Eastern Command is left in good hands, and Grumman has pretended to believe it.

Finally, the train from the Cretan border pass+ arrives. Roy raises his head to look in that direction, but he doesn’t move because he agreed to met Edward next to Edward’s preferred food dispenser+.

Roy arranges his shirt cuffs, honest enough with himself to admit that he is nervous. He gets along quite well with Edward through letters, and their phone calls are easy and engaging. However, letters and the phone remove many factors of a face to face interaction, and Roy can’t help but remember that in the past most of his face to face interactions have gone poorly.

He shakes his head. Edward is no longer a teenager, Roy isn’t his superior officer who needs to act like an asshole and put on masks around him, and they have spent nearly two years getting to truly know each other and discovering that they have much more in common that either of them ever bothered to find out before.

Roy’s eyes scan the crowd, but he doesn’t spot Edward immediately. He has to wait until most of the passengers have left the platform before he sees the familiar blonde head with its trademark antenna walking behind two boisterous children. Edward is looking around, and Roy waves his hand when golden eyes pass over the area he’s at. Edward’s eyes widen, and he pretty much pushes his way through the people separating them. He uses his luggage as a means to open a path, and for the first time since Roy can remember Edward Elric is carrying two suitcases instead of one.

“No uniform?” Edward asks as soon as he’s in hearing range. “I was expecting you to show up with your new stars.”

“I’m trying to maintain some privacy here, Edward.” Roy pushes away from the wall and very deliberately leaves his hands by his sides.

“You? Privacy?” Edward asks, but his voice is a teasing one Roy has become familiar with.

“Of course. We don’t want to appear on the newspaper the first day you’re back, do we?”

Roy raises his hands, just slightly, in an invitation. It’s odd, they’ve had some conversations on this matter, but they have had no physical contact since Roy saw Edward off+ at this same station almost two years ago.

Edward unceremoniously drops his suitcases, takes two steps forward and wraps his arms around Roy tightly.

“I missed your stupidly pretty face,” he mutters into Roy’s neck.

“I missed yours, too,” Roy replies, wrapping his own arms around Edward’s torso.

“You owe me food.”


	4. Chapter 4

The benches lining the hallways in the Physics Department of Central University are decidedly uncomfortable, though they are a better choice than standing up as he waits for Edward to come out.

Roy has earned a fair deal of looks in his time here, ranging from wary distrust to dreamy stares, though nobody has dared to approach him and ask the obvious question.

After all, what reason could have a General of the Amestris Military to spend over an hour sitting idly in here?

Well, first of all, Roy wasn’t expecting it to take quite so long. This is Edward they are talking about, so Roy was sure he would breeze through this presentation the same way he did with his State Alchemist exam. Had Roy known it would take so long, he would have brought a second book, because he finished the one he brought fifteen minutes ago.

The door opens, finally, and Edward walks out, his expression one of self-satisfaction that tells Roy everything he needs to know before Edward even opens his mouth.

“Passed. And I got a job,” Edward says, grinning.

Roy stands up and approaches him with a smile of his own.

“Congratulations, Doctor Elric.”

He doesn’t say or do anything else, purposefully waiting to see what Edward will do while he counts in his head.

“Don’t be a jerk, Roy,” Edward snaps, rolls his eyes, and drags Roy down to crush their mouths together.

Six seconds. Not bad.

 

* * *

 

 

Edward scoffs for the fifth time in so many minutes, and his pen scratches furiously on the paper before him.

Ever since Edward joined the staff of Central University, this has become part of their routine. Edward loves the research side of his job, he can go on and on about whatever project he’s working on for hours on end. Teaching, however, is an entirely different story.

Edward mutters something under his breath and the scratching intensifies. That’s the signal his patience is about to run out. Roy sets down the reports he has been reading and stands up. He walks over to Edward’s desk and sits on the edge of it.

“What’s the problem?” he asks.

Edward looks up at him, a massive frown on his face. It’s the sort of expression that would have preceded a massive rant years ago.

“This guy’s a _moron_ ,” Edward growls, gesturing at the essay before him. “Don’t know how the fuck he made it this far, but mine is an _advanced class_ , not high school.”

Curious, Roy extends his hand.

“May I?”

Edward shoves the essay at him and reaches for a new one. Three pages in, Roy is impressed by how restrained Edward’s comments on it are. Scathing, yes, but there isn’t a single rude word or insult in it. Roy isn’t sure how long Edward will be able to hold back, though, because the essay is as long as some of the tedious reports Roy has to deal with.

“We could mark it together,” Roy suggests halfway through the fourth page. Edward’s comments haven’t reached this far.

“You’re not doing my job, Roy,” Edward says without looking up.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m simply offering to give you some running commentary on this thing.” Roy waves the essay. “And, if you can refrain from being downright rude and offensive, I’ll even throw in a massage while you work.”

Two minutes later, Roy is reading over Edward’s shoulder while he works out the knots on his back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re back to only five parts. I’ve debated a lot with myself about the sixth one, because I felt I would’ve needed to write two or three more parts to make it truly work, something I unfortunately haven’t had the time to work on. So, after spending the whole day going back and forth on this, I’ve decided to end the story with the fifth part, because I like it better this way.

Ed doesn’t like to wait, he never has. Especially not for dangerous, potentially life-changing events.

He thought they would have more time. Roy was supposed to become Fuhrer, then bring democracy to Amestris. Become President. Afterwards… Ed would find a way to thwart Roy’s damned, suicidal plan. But no, they don’t have that time.

Grumman has decided to bring democracy to Amestris himself. Which is good. _Should_ be good. Except because the Ishvalan Civil War and the atrocities committed there need to be addressed before Grumman calls for elections. He said so himself, and Ed really missed his automail fist that day.

There have been months of negotiations between most of the brass (not Roy, because his fate is on the line here) and the Ishvalan high council. Ishval’s autonomy, war compensations, the remaining State Alchemists… Grumman has pushed for a pardon, as only Roy, Alex Armstrong and Dr. Marcoh are left out of the State Alchemists that took part in the war. A pardon for Scar, who is technically still a wanted criminal even if the military has left him be for the last five years, is a part of the final document.

A document that is being voted on today throughout Ishval.

“You’re going to wear a hole into the carpet if you keep that up,” Roy says. He’s sitting on the couch, and if Ed didn’t know him so well he would believe the calm mask Roy has on.

“Shouldn’t _you_ be the one doing this?” Ed demands, whirling on him.

“I don’t think pacing will change anything,” Roy says, and he has the gall to shrug.

Ed wants to scoff, but the situation is too grim for it. He’s seen the polls, he’s been following them almost obsessively since this mess started. He knows anything could happen. Ishval knows more about the Promised Day than any other region of Amestris. The real reason behind the war is public knowledge now, even if the true nature of the array isn’t. People know those who orchestrated the war are either dead or already imprisoned for life. But that doesn’t change the fact that Roy is the Flame Alchemist. Marcoh, very few people even know he was there, Armstrong deserted, but Roy…

Ed doesn’t know if Roy’s actions over the past five years will be able to tip the scales.

Warm arms wrap around him. Ed went back to pacing at some point, and now Roy is holding him still with his body.

“Just stop, please. Nothing has been decided yet,” Roy whispers into Ed’s hair, a hint of uneasiness in his voice. Ed knows, even if they have never talked about it, that Roy isn’t so keen on his suicide plan anymore. That he is aware of the effects it would have on those who love him.

Ed turns around in Roy’s arms and returns the hug with enough strength to bruise.

_I’m smuggling your fucking ass to Xing if I that’s what it takes,_ Ed thinks, but doesn’t say it out loud.

In the background, the radio keeps rattling out numbers as they receive updates on the vote.

 

* * *

 

 

Passed.

That’s all Ed hears later that night, cuddled on the couch next to Roy and holding on to him for dear life.

He sags in relief, buries his face into Roy’s neck, and breathes him in for many long seconds, forcing his heart rate to even out.

Roy tangles a hand in Ed’s loose hair, but he says nothing. Ed wonders if Roy is waiting for him or if he’s so in shock himself that he can’t utter a word.

“Marry me,” Ed blurts out. Those aren’t the words he intended to say, but he doesn’t take them back.

They are the truth.


End file.
